Empty Hearts and London Fog
by CoKain
Summary: Present...I like presents. It's sort of unhappy, but that's all my writing lately. Sunday is a dreadful day. Nothing to do. ModXPunk.


(I feel bad for my lovely Uke and her distasteful experience of which we shall not speak. So I am gifting her with writing as I cannot find inspiration to draw at the moment. I'm sorta hyper. Forgive it. In the title; London Fog is a tea based drink. Earl Grey seeped in steamed milk and vanilla shots with foam on top. Just so you know.)

**DISCLAIMER- No I don't own much of Teen Titans at all.**

Mad Mod did NOT like Punk Rocket.

Just an old fashion dosage of Mod mentality, really.

Having lived the memorable parts of his life in the sixties, running his shop on Carnaby Street had given him the mind set of most mods back then;

Rockers were filthy, badly dressed mongrels.

Plain and simple.

But Mad Mod wasn't living in the sixties anymore, was he? Here in the two thousands it was considered rude to openly sneer at somebody for the way they looked. Even though that didn't really stop most people.

Besides, the music was really beginning to hurt Mod's head.

"Would you mind?" He snapped, glaring at Punk with the clear desire for the boy to drop dead.

"Mind wot?" Punk returned, fiddling with the volume on his stereo.

This only served to a) Worsen Mod's annoyance, and b) Increase the shrill guitar and deep bass tones.

"I really don't understand-" the redhead began testily, "-Why you feel the need to listen to such terrible music."

He leaned over Punk's chest and pressed the power button, bringing them down into blissful silence.

"Oi!" Punk snapped, even though he made no move to turn the stereo back on, "Why'd you do that?"

"The music hurts my head, and I'm trying to read," Mod picked up the book he'd dropped and settled comfortably against the pillow.

It was sunday.

And really, no more needed to be said than that.

Sunday was a hellish day, situated just after saturday (a day that had come to be known for late night clubbing and sleeping in) and signalled the coming of dreaded monday (the beginnings of a bleak, new work week). All in all, NOBODY found it possible to enjoy the day, and spent most of it laying about in a sort of stupor.

Neither of the two men currently arguing were exempt.

"Who gives a shit about some dumb book?" Punk crossed his arms, "It's so boring and quiet now."

"Then go to sleep, I dare say you're better that way." Mod retorted.

"Play with me," Punk ordered, tugging the back of the other's shirt.

"Play with yourself," came the cold reply.

Pouting, Thomas sat back and experimentally rubbed his palm against his crotch. "No fun, you try."

Scoffing, Mad Mod rolled off his side of the bed and left the room, leaving Punk to glare and grumble.

-

The man returned a short while later, bringing the delightful smell of fresh Earl Grey tea with him. Punk sat up, eyes turning to Mad Mod hopefully.

"Tea for me?" He asked, his voice raising childishly.

"Bugger off and get your own" Mod replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Punk Rocket immmediately stole up behind him, resting his chin on the other's shoulder.

"Ah?" He opened his mouth.

"No."

Humming his displeasure, Punk rolled onto his back and whined.

"Bad dog" Mod said, not missing a beat.

Punk growled and snapped at the other.

"And bad dogs sleep on the floor."

Narrowing his eyes, Punk turned on his stomach and snaked onto Mad Mod's lap. Crimson gaze watching the older man intently.

"Did you lose your ability to speak?" Mod asked, taking a delicate sip of his tea and licking his lips "Because I daresay you're much improved this way."

"You suck" Punk's lips twitched into a pout, "You're so freaking mean. It isn't fair. You should at least be a little nicer after dumping me with Johnny for Halloween."

"And what did you and Johnny do to occupy yourselves?"

"...Played Scrabble and ate candy."

Well in truth, Punk had pretty much devoured all the candy, emotionally scarred all the children who had came trick-or-treating at Johnny's door and played...scrabble....with Johnny himself.

"Scrabble this time?" Mod raised an eyebrow and continued to drink his tea in the proper English Gentleman-ly way.

Punk nodded, beaming, "Uh-huh."

"I didn't think your mind had the capacity to play such a game." Mad Mod shrugged, "You just keep surprising me."

Punk kepted nodding, "We should buy candy sometime."

"If I want a hyper pet scratching at my door at three in the morning, demanding to be let out I'll go to the petstore and buy one thank you."

Sighing Punk reached up and tugged the knot in the neckercheif around Mad Mod's neck until it came undone. Once he'd finished that oddly difficult task, he sat up and brushed his mouth against the man's pallid skin. Taking in the peculiar scent of well bathed, well groomed Englishman.

"Mmmm" He purred, licking up the other's neck, "You're clean..."

Struck by the absurb comment, Mod pulled Punk Rocket back by the hair.

"It's noon" He hissed.

Punk made a face, thinking on this. "So?"

"It's to early for your nonsense."

"It's never to early for sex," Punk shook his head free of the grip and tackled the other down on the bed, "Especially if you're me."

Mad Mod allowed the buttons to be tugged from his shirt, he'd long since given up on scolding the boy for ruining his clothes, as it never worked.

Punk nuzzled his cheek against the man's warm skin, feeling in no rush for a shag.

"Nice" He mumbled, giving Mod's hollow stomach light kisses, "Can it be my turn?"

The question, no matter how innocently put, was actually rather dirty. It made the redhead stiffen and glare down at Punk.

"Certainly not!" He replied, blushing furiously.

"But it hasn't been my turn in ages!" Complained the boy, tilting his head, "Why can't I?" His voice became whiney as he pawed at the man's chest, "I want to be on top this time."

"And I said no" Mod repeated.

Growling, Punk peeled his tee-shirt from his scrawny frame and tossed it over Mod's head. He watched as his mate pulled it off and kicked it off the bed as though it had done him a serious offense.

"I just want to make you happy," he pleaded, "Honest."

"In no way will what you're suggesting make me happy" Mod snapped, "Honest."

Undoing his pants and shimmying out of them, Punk pounced on Mad Mod. "Why?" He asked, looming over the man, "It made you happy other times."

"I'm older than you."

"Shit answer, I've seen plenty of bottoms who are older," Punk smirked.

"That's only in those silly books those bloody girls show you!" Mod snapped, placing his hands firmly against Punk's shoulders.

"Still" the boy continued, "Pleeease?"

"If you insist on having sex with me then you'll have to respect what I want," Mad Mod sat up, effectively moving Punk away from him, "Unless you don't want to play."

"No" Punk hung his head, feeling dissapointed. He moved forward again, giving Mod a gentle kiss, "I want to. You're so cruel, it's not fair. I really do want to make you happy."

"Could've fooled anyone" Mod sounded as though he really couldn't care less what Punk was trying to do.

Punk whimpered and rolled back onto his side of the bed, for the first time doing something Mod wanted by backing off.

(What silly books you ask? What girls? I dunno yaoi manga and random fangirls? Maybe there should be a part two...Or maybe not...Am I in a giving mood? Dunno.)


End file.
